


The Godsend Catastrophe

by CastielsCarma



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Communication, Dean Winchester Being Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Visions, pantykink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 05:42:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18088517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastielsCarma/pseuds/CastielsCarma
Summary: After solving a case and clearing a shopowner's name Dean receives a thank-you gift that he reluctantly accepts. Odd things start to happen shortly after with Dean being plagued with kind-of-ok visions involving Cas. After trying to tackle the problem as he would a normal hunt or case, Dean realizes that he might need to address it from another angle.





	The Godsend Catastrophe

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first longer fic after heavy writer's block. Thank you so much Seralina for being my beta.
> 
> Hope you enjoy and as always, thank you so much for reading <3

Most of the time a hunter's instinct was spot on but Dean Winchester didn't need any special instincts to know something witchy had been going on in the small town of Climax, Kansas. Five people – all male and old enough to have been chewing gum and Mm bop-ing their way through teenage life before settling down in a town only noteworthy for its name – beating themselves to death was a big clue. That they chose to kill themselves with sharpened twigs was clue number two but the biggest indication of foul play had been the hex bags with the bones, a crushed powder, probably spit, and the eyeball from a cow or some other gross item witches preferred. Let him hunt for a century more and Dean would still not understand what was up with witches and their disgusting fascination with bodily fluids and just gross stuff in general.

Dean, Sam, Cas, and Jack walked towards the store when they saw an elderly lady exit the tiny wooden building. Sam ran over on long moose legs and held the door open for her, getting a nod and big smile in thanks. As they entered the store a small bell chimed as the door closed behind them. A quick glance around the place told Dean that they were the only customers in the store. 

The woman behind the desk had her blond, thick hair tied in an intricate braid that fell way past her nice ass. Dean had checked out both the hair and ass, but there was something about her blue eyes that made him uneasy. It had nothing to do with the color. Blue came in many shades – sapphire, cerulean, Burger King blue – so he figured the unease was due to her _also_ being a witch. How there could be two witches in a town not bigger than the local Sprout Market back home was not something he was going to ask though.

As she noticed the four men her eyes narrowed, a hint of steel behind them. She brought her braid over her shoulder and let her hands play absentmindedly with a thick gold necklace embossed with intricate patterns. 

Dean walked up to the shopkeeper. “So, Mona, you were right, it was her. We caught her right when the poor son of a bitch was about to porcupine himself to death.” Dean scratched the back of his head as he blinked. The air sure seemed dry in the magic shop. You'd think a witch could conjure up some humidity as easy as she'd memorize murderous Latin phrases but apparently not. “So, thanks for pointing us in the right direction.”

“It was nothing, I saw it clearly. Are you sure that the hex bag contained the amber?”

Sam nodded. “Yes, we got it here.” He handed over a small leather pouch which Mona took promptly and gracefully hid in a pocket.

“Thank you. Those men were good men, honoring their wives and marriages. The fate of the witch was weaved as soon as she put her thoughts into action. Her magic wasn't even subtle. Twigs to kill them as if the town would believe the owner of _Twigs and Thorns_ would commit such a heinous act. The people of Climax are grateful. I am grateful for your aid.”

Dean snickered thinking about the name. Sam could roll his eyes all he wanted, no one was going to come and tell him that name wasn't funny. Something Mona had said earlier caught his attention but Cas was faster.

“You are not the owner of the store?” Cas inquired and Dean could hear the small note of suspicion creeping into his voice.

“Alright guys, she has done us no harm and the witch responsible for the murders is dead. We should head back home.” He smiled apologetically towards Mona. “Thank you and sorry about um... that.”

“Yes, thank you,” Jack added with a friendly smile and took a few steps towards the exit, ready to leave.

Cas simply nodded but Dean was not letting go of the subject so easily. Just as he was about to ask again a sneeze interrupted him. Dean rubbed his eyes again and noticed that they were watery, almost burning. Son of a bitch. As if his cursing called them forth, two gray cats casually walked around the corner of the desk, sauntered over and rubbed their hairy heads on his legs. He could see millions of tiny hairs attach themselves to his jeans. He took a step back but the frightful felines followed him.

“I'm allergic. Go rub off on Sam. I'm sure he'd like to know the secret to that shiny fur.”

Sam just glared at him, doing a mild version of bitch face #14 and grabbed the cats. He put them down on the countertop where they immediately started to purr, rubbing themselves all over Mona's sweater. “He is allergic.”

Dean rolled his eyes as he bent down to pluck away some strands but they were basically fused together with his jeans. Just great.

“My apologies, Dean. They are very fond of the pure of heart. And no, I'm not the owner of this shop, she is away on an errand in Eureka.” Mona bent down and disappeared behind the desk.

“Well, I'd say Eureka too if I'd got to Climax.” Dean grinned, totally ignoring Sam's disapproving stare. Cas looked at him all stone-faced and Jack looked intrigued. Well, he couldn't be blamed. The joke was hilarious, _he_ was hilarious. Dean sneezed again.

Mona finally appeared again, holding a cloth wrapped bundle in her hands. She handed it over to Cas. “It is not much but take this as a token of my gratitude. It is very dear to my heart.” As she said the last words, she smiled, touching her necklace again. “It's for you, Dean.”

Cas pulled the fabric away and turned the thing over in his hand before he gave it to Dean. If Dean didn't know better, he would guess that Cas looked amused for some reason.

Dean turned the oblong thing over and blinked as he saw the tall, slender cat-statue. It was made of heavy, solid wood with slits for eyes, making the cat look very pleased with itself. The tail was wrapped around its feet, the pointy ears were sharp but otherwise, it was smooth to the touch, like it had been worn down by numerous hands touching it over the years. Or maybe this Mona chick just liked to rub it for good luck?

“I'm allergic to cats.”

Raising an eyebrow Cas looked at Dean, his blue eyes serious. “This isn't a real cat, Dean.”

“I know that Ca – “ Sighing, he grabbed hold of the thing and nodded at Mona. “Thanks for the... cat. If this is all, we need to get going. Stay safe, don't turn bad.” 

Dean squinted as the sun hit his face on the way out of the store. His eyes immediately searched for Baby; checking that she was OK was second nature to him. As they walked up to where she was parked he still hadn’t figured out what the hell he was gonna do about the hair problem.

“Dean, you coming or what?” Sam was already inside Baby, next to Jack, and clearly annoyed at having to wait for Dean. “You've been standing there for over a minute now. What are you doing?”

Dean looked at Baby and then at his jeans. It was a two-hour ride back to the Bunker; the weather was fine. He sighed and handed the stupid cat statue to Cas. “Here, hold this Cas. Oh, and take off your trench coat too, I need it.”

Before Cas had time to question him, Dean was removing his shoes and unbuckling his belt. He quickly pulled down his zipper and let his jeans fall to the ground. As he stepped out of his pants he reached out, fumbling into thin air. When he didn't feel anything he stopped, turning his green eyes on Cas.

“Cas, get with the program. Your trench coat.”

The angel handed his trench coat over and Dean wrapped his jeans inside the trench coat, making a tight square before he used the belt and wrapped the package tightly. “There.” Dean opened the door and tossed the bundle to Sam. “Catch! Cas, you’re riding shotgun with me. You can be the cat-sitter.”

As they sat down in Baby's comfortable leather seats Cas finally spoke. “I don't understand why you felt the need to remove your pants, Dean.” His eyes quickly glanced down to Dean's pant-less legs before he fixed his gaze on the view in front of them.

“Like hell Baby is getting cat hair all over her.”

When they arrived at the Bunker, Dean salted the cat and made Sam do a number of spells over it to reveal any sort of hidden mumbo-jumbo but the cat came out clean.

“You sure we have done everything? Maybe we should call Rowena?” Dean glared at the cat. “Maybe we can just throw it away. I don't like it. It's like a Chuck-o-cat. Next thing we know it'll probably try and murder us all in our sleep. You didn't feel anything, Jack?”

Jack shook his head as he took a bite of a nougat bar. “No, nothing strange that my powers could pick up on at least,” he said between chews. “It's just a really old, cat statue.”

Sam sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Maybe you should put your pants back on, Dean.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, good idea. Just gonna take a shower, to get rid of the cat hair.” He took the cat thing with him.

After grabbing a new pair of pants in his room, Dean headed over to the showers. He turned on the water, enjoying the sound as it hit the tiles hard. No sad drips, but lashing, torrential streams that spoke of good water pressure and a back soon to be eased of tension. As Dean let the stream hit his naked body he sighed in pleasure. He was still going to take some pills for his allergy but hot water was a good second option for relief. Closing his eyes he let the water wash over him.

Everything sounded muted as he was surrounded by warm, pelting water and suddenly he was back in Baby, sitting there in only his black boxers. Dean glanced in the rear-view mirror but there was no sign of Sam or Jack. Turning to his left he could see the landscape passing by as he was driving Baby; fields of wheat billowing in the wind, a lonely tree here and there, and the sun shining incessantly warming his skin through the window. There was a prickle, a primal warning of being watched and as Dean turned to the right... Cas was there.

“I don't think we need this anymore, Dean”, Cas mumbled and tossed away the stupid cat statue. Even in his fantasy, he was annoyed over the thing but his thoughts on the matter were quickly shattered as Cas put his hand over Dean's groin, pressing firmly.

“Fuck”, Dean murmured, hands grasping Baby's steering wheel tightly as he tried not to steer off the road. His cock felt as if it was struck by lightning, instantly hardening. Cas' hand eased off a fraction and his fingers slowly trailed a path of fire from Dean's inner right thigh and back to his cock, that was just begging to be released from its cotton prison.

“You want me to stop, Dean?” Cas' question was calm and measured like this was something totally normal, a routine they did on every ride together.

Dean shook his head, trying to focus on the driving and not crashing Baby. The thought sobered him somewhat; fuck, he'd be so pissed if he crashed Baby. Daring to look at Cas, he saw a small smile play on the angel's lips.

“Eyes on the road, Dean and answer the question.” Dean snapped his attention back on the road, even though his dick was practically begging him to say the right thing. Say yes. Yes. It's just three letters. Say yes! Dean shook his head.

Cas' face was suddenly close to Dean's. He could feel his warm presence, hotter than the sun on his right side. Small puffs of Cas' breath eased their way over Dean's neck and ear, causing goosebumps to erupt all over his body. A jolt of need went through him. “Be a good boy, and answer me, Dean.”

Holy fucking hell, Dean thought and swallowed, hoping that his voice would carry him. “No, Cas.”

Apparently pleased with the answer, Cas just smiled and Dean's cock twitched it response as Cas' palm pressed down harder. His voice was low and did all sorts of things to Dean. He couldn't believe this was actually happening. “You look so pretty in these panties, Dean.”

Confusion marred Dean's face for a quick moment. He knew he was wearing black boxers but as he looked down his cock was trapped in a pair of purple lace panties. The thin fabric stretched as Dean's cock twitched at the sight of the lacy underwear and a small wet spot was already forming at the front.

“Oh shit, Cas.” Dean's face and chest burned bright, an odd combination of desire and humiliation that coursed through him. He swerved momentarily, Baby coming close to the edge of the road before Dean pulled her back. He eased off the gas somewhat; Baby crashing was the last thing he wanted right now and his attention was very much on Cas, his hands, his smooth voice, and burning touch.

As Cas worked his hand inside Dean's panties, Dean moaned at the added pressure and how the silk fabric dug into his cock and balls.

“Mm, you are all wet for me.” Cas's voice was infuriatingly even as his thumb pressed over Dean's slit, rubbing the precome all over his head. “You are beautiful like this, Dean. All needy for me.”

Dean allowed himself to close his eyes, just for a moment as he bucked up against Cas' hand, silently begging him to keep going. He was already so close to the edge, like a teenage boy exploding just from the feel of a hand on his cock for the first time, but Dean could care less. This was by far the hottest thing that had happened to him and Cas was doing it, Cas, his best friend and angel that he had desired for fuck knows how long.

Cas' hand wrapped around Dean's painfully hard cock and his voice was low and smooth as he edged him on. “I can't wait to fuck you in these panties, watch you moan for more like a good little boy. Can't wait to pull the smooth silk fabric aside and shove my cock in your wanting hole.”

Dean's cock and balls twitched, contracting with need and just as he felt a surge of spearing pleasure through his cock he came hard. He reached for the wall, holding himself steady as the powerful orgasm rocked through him, welcoming the now cold water drops from the shower on his body flushed with heat.

After swallowing some pills, getting dressed and calming the fuck down from the best orgasm he'd had in months, Dean walked into the kitchen to find the cooking being well on its way. Cas was stirring something as it simmered in a big pot while Sam and Jack were relaxing at the dining table. Sam had his head in a book, of course, and Jack was eating another nougat bar.

“Hey, you not gonna eat lunch with us, kiddo?”

Jack swallowed and nodded. “I'm just taking precautions since Cas is doing the cooking.” Sam snorted but otherwise kept his nose in the book.

Cas put down the wooden spoon on the counter. “I did make you soup, that if I recall correctly, you enjoyed greatly, Jack.”

Dean walked up to Cas, peering into the pot. “So, what ya making? It smells... different.”

The angel looked at him, and Dean could tell that he was hesitant to speak up. Dean could feel Cas' gaze lingering on him, quickly glancing down before he looked at Dean's face again as if weighing him on some invisible scale. Dean didn't know what was going on and he definitely didn't like how his heartbeat quickened at Cas' scrutiny. His mind instantly flashed him pictures of Cas' hand in his – and he needed to think about something else, like right _now._

“I see you are wearing pants again.” Cas looked at him, narrowing his eyes. “ _You_ smell differently.”

For a brief moment, Dean's pulse skyrocketed. He suddenly had the irrational thought that Cas knew everything about his vivid jerk off fantasy in the shower. That was, of course, impossible. Sure, Cas was an angel of the Lord, so Dean figured he technically could read Dean's mind at any time. But Cas had never done so before and it was unlikely he was doing it now. Cas would never betray Dean's trust like that.

“I borrowed Sam's body shower; it's vanilla and almond.”

“Vanilla and macadamia, actually. Rehydrates your skin,” Sam called from the table.

Trying to steer the conversation away from pants, naked bodies, and nuts, Dean repeated his question about the stew. “What's for lunch?”

“I'm making chili. The fast version since I know how agitated you get when you are hungry.” Cas grabbed a spice grinder, sprinkling some more in the stew.

“I don't get agitated, just really hungry.”

“Sorry, I mean distressed.”

Dean glared at Cas. “Haha, very funny.”

“It's a vegetarian chili, Dean. I know your penchant for liking _meat_. So you might not approve of this.”

Narrowing his eyes, Dean looked at Cas. He was not imaging how Cas had stressed that word. Or was he? He'd slept good the night before, Cas' had made him his morning coffee, he'd jerked off, he was good. Sam and Jack were still at the table, book abandoned and nougat gone. Now they were immersed in a game of backgammon. Dean shrugged. “I can give it a try. I'm sure it won't kill me much.”

Cas turned away from Dean as he spoke. “Fuck?”

Eyes wide, Dean sputtered out a weak, “What?”

“Fork? You do need utensils to try the chili, Dean.” Cas was holding the fork in his hand, hesitant to offer it now like Dean was going crazy right in front of him. Jesus Christ, maybe he was.

“Thanks, Cas.” Dean grabbed the fork, his hand touching Cas' lightly, and Dean felt a spark of warmth shoot through him. He was acting like a blushing virgin. Clenching his teeth, he groaned internally. If this crap kept up, he'd need a second shower after lunch.

Shoving the fork in the warm chili he stirred it around a bit. Yeah, this was definitely vegetarian chili. He could see things swimming around in there that would make a Texan weep. Exhaling, he scooped up some chili on his fork, blowing gently on it before giving it a taste. It was surprisingly good, even had the smokey taste that one associated with a nice hearty stew. It lacked the roundness that a slice of good and fatty meat or bacon would bring to it, but it was good nonetheless. Dean would be damned though if he'd call this chili in front of Cas.

“It's an acquired taste.” Cas looked at him, a small smile playing on his lips, obviously waiting for some kind of review or grade on his cooking.

“It's OK, Cas. Not bad,” Dean mumbled, still having a mouthful of chili in his mouth.

“Even if you don't like the taste, Dean, be polite and swallow.”

Dean coughed, then quickly swallowed down the chili. He grimaced at the pain that bloomed in his throat as it went down, too hot and way too fast.

Cas was already there with a glass of water. “Too salty for your liking? Or was something else amiss with the flavor? It is a challenge to get the flavor components right.”

Grabbing the glass of water, Dean gulped down the liquid, not sure if he was trying to soothe his throat or his nerves. Clearing his throat again, he put the glass down. “Nah, it was good. For being a vegetarian chili. Some bacon fat in there and it'd be perfect. I'm impressed.”

Seeming pleased at the praise Cas stirred the chili some more then walked over to the oven. “The bread is done.”

After having a quiet meal together with no further weird incidents or Dean's mind climbing another peg up the crazy ladder, he made his way back to his room. He had been on many hunts throughout the years and the first thing that came to mind was: if everything started to get funky after you received a gift from a witch, then you either have to kill the witch or burn the gift dead.

He was sure that stupid toy cat was cursed or bewitched somehow. Or it had been dragged through rat intestines. Whatever had happened, it was probably disgusting and Dean needed it gone. Then everything would get back to normal and Dean wouldn't have to guard his emotions around Cas, well, not more than _normal_ anyway.

The cat peered at him from where he'd tossed it on the bed. Grabbing it he dinged it on the nightstand table. The sound it made confirmed Dean's suspicions that it was solid wood. Just to be sure, he grabbed it with all his strength and hurled it towards the floor. Nothing happened except the cat bouncing a few times on the ground. Taking the cat with him Dean headed towards the garage. Grabbing a saw, he pinned the cat down with one hand while using the saw blade to slowly cut through the cat. He figured cutting it up into small pieces would make it burn prettier when he lit little Luna on fire.

After a couple of minutes working with the blade, Dean was already warm and sweaty. He had no idea what kind of wood the cat was made of but it was sturdy as hell. He glanced at the axe hanging on a wall. He would be lying if he said he wasn't tempted to use it but maybe it was a bad idea to use it right now. What was supposed to be an easy salt and burn had just pissed him off and in the mood he was in he'd probably chop off his own thumb.

Looking down at the semi-decapitated cat, he figured that was enough. He tossed it into an old trash can, grabbed a can of gasoline and soaked the wooden figure with it. Sprinkling salt on the piece, Dean lit a match and watched as flames erupted from the bin. He could hear crackling sounds from the fire, so at least something was happening. Walking over to the stereo set he used when Baby needed a tune-up, Dean put on _Wanted Dead or Alive._ Looking down at the fire he smiled grimly. “You listen to Jon Bon Jovi, kitty-cat. I want you to stay dead. Your nine lives are up.”

After an hour of hanging in the garage and listening to classic rock, Dean peered into the trash. The cat was charred, black and although it wasn't totally burned to cinders, Dean figured what eventual ghost or curse had lingered in the statue was now gone. “What the hell, no reason not to be thorough”, Dean said out loud, more as an OK for himself than anything else and went over to the wall. Grabbing the axe, he pulled out the burned cat-statue, opened a side-door, climbed some stairs and walked out into fresh midday sky. He put the cat on an old tree trunk he used when he chopped wood and proceeded to hack and slash the cat into splinters.

Confident that his problem was out of the way, Dean checked in Sam's room. He was not there, so Dean figured he was probably in the library or maybe in the game room. He contemplated joining Sam but maybe he'd wait, let some hours pass and make sure the cat-magic was gone for sure, before socializing with anyone. Especially with Cas. Some hide-away time in his room sounded like a plan.

After one hour, the words in Dean’s book had started to melt together into unintelligible gibberish and even the memory foam in his bed was a distraction. With a frustrated groan, Dean tossed the book to the side. He couldn't get Cas out of his head and his mind insisted on taking him back to the two-hour ride home and Cas sitting next to him when Dean was practically naked. Just the thought of being naked next to Cas stirred his dick back to life. For fuck's sake, he'd been an expert at shoving down his feelings for the angel for over a decade and now they decided to erupt with a vengeance making his life miserable.

Not that _something_ with Cas would've been miserable, quite the opposite. The thought of having something more with Cas made Dean feel something akin to happiness, he guessed. A change at more than death, pain, and loss. A chance at love... and wasn't he sappy right now? But he'd always had that niggling feeling in the back of his head that he was poison. Sam loved him but Sam had to, he was his brother, it wasn't like he had much choice in the matter. And then Jack came along and although they'd both had a rocky start, Dean couldn't imagine a life without Jack now. He ignored the part of his mind that wanted to bring him back to the gut-wrenching hopelessness and anger he'd felt when Jack had died. And Dean knew that Jack loved him and that he was loved by Mary, hell maybe even Rowena loved him in her own foxy way.

Could Cas really be in love with him? Dean knew that Cas cared deeply for him, he wasn’t blind. Rubbing a hand over his face, Dean got up from the bed. He paced back and forth trying to make sense of his thoughts. It didn't matter if Cas loved him, as a friend, maybe as more. Dean had nothing to give Cas except himself and wasn't that a meager offering? 

He stopped in front of a wall and punched it in frustration. Even that was a lie. Dean had come to terms with a lot that had happened in his life and he remembered what he had said about being good with who he was. He had been honest with Sam about that. Sighing, Dean sat down again, savoring the pain of his throbbing hand, anything to distract him from the niggling thought that still managed to worm it's way back inside his head. _Why are you lying to yourself right now?_

_You are afraid._

He was _not_ afraid. He was Dean fucking Winchester.

...Maybe he was slightly afraid. He should have been back to normal by now. Dean didn't know what kind of magic had been in the works and he was not going to ask Sammy for help. Cas was also a big hell no. 

After another hour the feeling of being uncomfortable had just increased. It was as if his skin was too tight and he was on edge, fidgety. He never fidgeted. Raking a hand through his hair he figured he'd go work on Baby. Give her a good wash-up to keep his thoughts off people. Perhaps this had nothing to do with Cas, maybe his stomach was really upset over that travesty of a chili Cas had prepared earlier. He had read about people getting weird food reactions, maybe his belly simply protested all that amount of _green_ things he'd forced down.

The garage was pleasantly cool as Dean entered. He instantly felt more at ease. He was with Baby, everything was as normal as it could get, at least in his life. Grabbing a big bucket Dean filled it up with warm water and a splash of shampoo. Leaving the bucket, for now, he grabbed a hose and slowly turned on the water. Aiming the nozzle at Baby he let the water flow over her black body. There was an ease to Dean's motions, a familiarity that spoke of repetition, care, and love. This was a task he had done hundreds of times before, and that'd he'd do again and again, not only because he had to but because he wanted to.

So many memories stemmed from that car, and more importantly, were etched inside Dean's mind. Not all of them were good. Dean remembered long drives on back roads out into nothing but dead ends; aching necks and backs from odd sleeping positions. Sam and him arguing over stupid shit. But he also remembered the jokes they used to tell each other, the sense of freedom Baby gave them; all those Zeppelin songs that were blasted through the speakers until Sam was begging for silence.

When Baby was thoroughly rinsed Dean grabbed a sponge, dipped it in the warm soapy water and started washing the hood first with round, circular motions. Taking care to always have plenty of water he was soon lost in the circular rhythm of the sponge going over the car. The work relaxed him, put his body at ease, and he was doing something useful. As Dean washed Baby's trunk, going over a particularly stubborn spot in circular motions he looked down at his hand, swirling round and round over the black paint.

The black liquid swirled round and round, still in motion after Cas' had poured the coffee in his mug. Dean grabbed the mug, nodding towards Cas as he carefully took a sip. Black fucking coffee, nothing could taste better in the mornings, predawn, whatever. One sip or preferably five and he was feeling like a human again.

“This coffee is so fucking good, Cas. Thanks, man.”

Cas put the pot back on the stove and came back to sit next to Dean. “You are welcome, Dean.”

Yawning, Dean put a hand over his mouth. He felt dead tired. He was getting too old for these early mornings. Sure, he'd said that whole speech to Sam about getting his four hours and he _could_ still get by but man, the repercussions later were awful. And now when they finally had some rest in the Bunker, no special cases or monsters to hunt, his brain had decided it was an excellent idea to get up at 4 am. Like an idiot he found himself saying, “You are up early.” Of course, Cas was up early, ‘cause he never slept. 

Cas let out an amused sound. “I'd say the same about you, usually you are asleep at this hour. I had just finished organizing the pantry and was on my way to fold that huge pile of laundry. It’s a very comforting thing to do, folding laundry. You should try it sometimes.“ 

Dean grinned. “If you enjoy it so much, I’ll leave that fun chore to you. No need to thank me.”

Cas smiled. “I heard you were up. Your breathing pattern changed, so I figured you were awake and not just having a fitful dream.”

Taking another sip of coffee, Dean pursed his lips. “My breathing pattern, mm? So you can hear when my breathing pattern changes?”

Looking unsure for a second, Cas answered hesitantly. “Yes, it's easiest when you are going from deep sleep to an awakened state rather suddenly, but every change is detectable. I notice these things, cause I'm awake. And an angel.”

Dean laughed at the last part, then turned serious. “I see. And can you notice other reasons for when my _breathing pattern_ is changing?” Dean looked up at Cas, carefully studying his face. He saw Cas quickly avert his eyes, his pupils getting bigger and a slight shade of pink form on his cheeks.

“I...um... don't know. Your sleeping patterns are the easiest to pick up on.”

There was a slight pause and Dean could have sworn that the whole fucking world stopped with it. Suddenly he could feel a tension in the air, a chill going through him and not even the warm mug of coffee in his hands could stop the goosebumps erupting on his arms or the shiver going down his spine.

“How about those patterns that are extra hard to pick up on? When I'm _not_ sleeping?” Dean had no fucking idea why he was talking about this. Scratch that, ‘cause he _did_ know, and he couldn't believe he was doing it. This was the most roundabout way he could think of telling Cas. But it was _something_ so he wasn't complaining.

And then Cas' eyes turned to steel and for a split second Dean was horrified that he had made a mistake, that he had fucking ruined everything. He felt like throwing up, punching something and bolting from the kitchen all at the same time.

Exhaling, Cas went back to being Cas again and his eyes were his own, not shields of deflection but open and wild like the ocean itself, filled with something Dean didn't dare mention yet. “Yes, Dean.” Cas licked his lips. “I do pick up on those special patterns too. It's a form of… longing you could say.”

Dean's coffee was forgotten in his hands. His whole body felt clammy and he wanted to steer the conversation away from this, call on Sammy, anything to offer a distraction, and yet he wanted Cas to continue. Cas was silent as if waiting for permission. What the hell? “This longing, is it... geared towards something specific?”

Cas rubbed his hands and spoke softly. “Yes.”

Even before Dean's imminent confession – Chuck help him because he was going to say it – he could feel his whole body heat up. He knew Cas could hear his accelerated heartbeat, his pulse throbbing way too loudly inside his own mind. Swallowing, Dean went for it. “I love you Cas, and I've … been in love with you for ages.”

If he thought Cas was going to ask for permission or go slowly he was mistaken. Cas' eyes lit up and the smile he fired off at Dean was the most radiant one he had ever seen. “I love you too, Dean.” Then Cas was on him like a predator finally catching its prey. His kiss was wild and stormy and Dean moaned as Cas' hand went into his hair. The taste of Cas was mind blowing and Dean couldn't quite comprehend that this was actually happening.

Chuckling, Cas broke off the kiss, trailing his thumb over Dean's plump lips. “You are beautiful, Dean Winchester, and this is happening. Just let go.”

A thousand fantasies flashed through Dean's mind and it was as if Cas found one and latched himself on to it, because suddenly Dean was grabbed by the waist and then Cas turned him around effortlessly. A strong hand pushed his back down until his chin and chest were resting on the metallic kitchen counter and Dean's blood boiled as he felt Cas push himself against him. His arousal was evident through his pants as Dean felt Cas' hard cock against his ass.

“Fucking hell, Cas.” Dean was trying to breathe, and take in everything that was happening. He wondered briefly why he didn't feel more hesitation but he had waited for so long and it was Cas. Just the thought, the knowledge, that it was Cas stroking his hair, eager fingers trailing a path from his neck and down his spine made him want to scream out his joy. Dean yelped in surprise when the cold hit his thighs and stomach. Looking down he realized that his clothes were gone.

“Whoa, Cas, you learn a new party trick?” His voice came out hoarse and heavy with desire, ruining the lighthearted joke he was trying to make.

Cas bent down over Dean, and by the feel of warm skin behind him Dean could tell that Cas' clothes were gone too .“Mm,” Cas mused. “All for you. ” He stopped his ministrations for a moment, leaving Dean naked and panting.

A few seconds later Dean could feel Cas' fingers down his crack until something cold pressed against his hole, caressing and prodding. Cas' grip on his left hip was tight, almost bruising and Dean reveled in the strength of his angel. The heavy weight of Cas' cock pressed in between his ass cheeks and Dean arched back, wanting, needing to feel more.

“It's okay Cas, just fuck me – “ Dean's plea was interrupted as Cas thrust inside him, confident and eager. It was as if Dean's admission of the strange bond, this _thing_ forged in fire, blood and want that had always been between them like a torrent even in the calmest of times had released Cas from any sense of hesitation about what Dean wanted. Cas knew now and he rested heavy in that certainty. He was willing to _take_ it and Dean was more than willing to give Cas everything he wanted and more.

Moaning Cas' name on an exhale like a prayer, Dean arched his back, wanting to feel more, feel everything Cas had to offer. They were both grunting. The sound of skin slapping against skin, Cas' heavy breathing, the notion that it was Cas that was inside him, Cas that caressed his back covered in a sheen of sweat, Cas that loved him. It was too much. Dean came, suddenly and hard.

The sponge was on the ground, a splash of water like a halo around it and Dean cursed when he found _another_ wet splash staining his jeans. Rubbing his eyes he muttered curses under his breath. His pants were stained by come. This was just fucking great. He couldn't wash Baby without suddenly being engaged in whatever the hell had just happened. Dean contemplated a shower but remembered the visions he'd had the last time he took one. Not that that had been unpleasant but it bothered him that they seemed out of his control, coming and going at random. Cas was hot but not that fucking hot. OK, he was _that_ hot, but Dean would've liked to be in control of his own damn daydreams.

Letting out a sound born from frustration Dean ignored the sponge and grabbed his phone. Sam picked up on the third ring.

“Hey, Dean, what's up?”

“Not much. Just done washing Baby.” Dean cleared his throat, trying to sound even. Everything was fine, nothing out of the ordinary was happening to him, nope.

There was a brief pause and then Sam spoke again, curiosity lacing his voice. “Are you in the garage?”

Dean really didn't want to explain the specifics of what was happening to him. “Yes,” he said curtly.

“Any specific reason why you are calling me on the _phone_ , Dean? You can just talk to me, face to face like a normal person.”

“Yeah, I know that. I just need you to look something up for me real quick. It involves books so that's an instant yes. You love lore so I'm technically doing you a favor.” Dean chuckled as he heard Sam sigh over the phone.

“Whatever, Dean. What do you need?”

“You remember that case we just had, with the twig witch? I need you to look up that other witch, Mona. See if you find anything about that cat-statue in lore; weird spells, incantations, curses, anything.”

“That's a pretty broad description. Anything more you can give me, Dean? You think something is going on with the statue? Like a curse or something?”

“Mm, a curse. And yeah, about that. Don't worry about the cat-statue, I took care of it.” Dean could practically hear Sam's disapproval over the line.

“Dean, what do you mean you _took care_ of it? What if – “

Dean decided to cut Sam off before he went into full panic mode. “I chopped it up into confetti. Look, the circumstances are not important, Sammy. Let's just say I experience visions that are really real. Nothing evil or creepy, quite the opposite actually. But I can't control it and I think it's getting stronger.”

“What kind of visions?” Dean could hear the sound of a pen scribbling. Groaning internally, Dean headed over to the door taking him out of the garage.

“It's _fantasies_ , you can say.”

Sam hummed. “What kind of fantasies?”

“What kind of fantasies do you think?” Flipping the light switch off, Dean closed the door behind him.

“Right. Don't tell me more. Please. I'll check for anything magical relating to cat relics and visions.”

“Good.” Leaning against the door, Dean paused as a sudden thought hit him. “Oh, check the two actual cats. Maybe that is important, there was definitely something fishy going on with them. And Mona's Back-to-the-Future-schtick and how she knew certain things. Maybe that's all connected. ”

“OK. It's not much but I'll see if I can find anything. What are you going to do?”

“Imma do some thinking.”

Hanging up, Dean was on his way out when he met Jack in the hall.

The nephilim cracked a smile when he saw him. “Hi, Dean. You want to play some games? I know Cas hasn't tried that new hack n' slash game you like. I thought you could teach him the rules.”

At the mention of Cas' name, Dean felt a tightening in his chest, an urge to do something. He clenched his fingers briefly and had to concentrate _not_ to drop everything and just run to Cas like a princess in distress. “There is not much to teach. It's a hack n' slash game. You hack and then you slash. Hack enough and you level up. Rinse and repeat.”

“Right. So you want to play?”

“Sorry, I can't kiddo. Need to do an errand. I was wondering if you could help me finish up with Baby. She needs a good, thorough cleaning.”

Jack's face lit up but Dean could see there was some hesitation in his eyes. “Really? You need help with Baby? I can do that. What if I scratch her though? I know how much you care for Baby, and I don't want to mess her up.”

“You are gonna use sponges, Jack, not rocks. They're in the top drawer, cart in the corner. Use lots of water. A lot. Clean small sections at a time, circular motions. Rinse her off when you think you are done. Then do _everything_ all over again. Questions?”

Jack shook his head. “No, I don't think so.”

“Good. Have fun.”

After changing into a pair of clean pants Dean took the stairs leading out of the Bunker. The view from the top of their home looked different in daylight compared to the starry night skies he used to look up at. Dean played with the bottle of beer he'd brought with him, spinning it in his hand as he contemplated what the fuck he was gonna do.

_You could always do Cas._ The unbidden thought flared brightly in his mind and he bit his lip. Maybe he should just get it over with. It was not like he was afraid of Cas saying no, he could deal with that. Maybe. But what scared him the most was if Cas said yes.

“Hello, Dean.” Dean narrowed his eyes at the voice coming from behind. He was not sure if this was real or another one of those visions. Just to be on the safe side he'd pretend it was the former.

Cas' hair was messy and his blue eyes inquisitive as they honed in on Dean. “May I?” His voice was low and smooth and the sound of it made Dean close his eyes. He was so fucked, but against better judgment, he nodded.

Without another word, Cas sat down next to Dean. He looked out over the landscape and after some time he momentarily closed his eyes, enjoying the sun warming his face. As always there was no space between them. Neither of them could stop gravitating towards each other, lost in a magnetic pull that they couldn't and didn't want to escape.

Dean swallowed hard. He couldn't help but glance quickly at Cas' face. His long dark lashes and chapped lips caused his heart to be all soft. What if _he_ could be the reason Cas closed his eyes in soft pleasure and not the sun, what if _he_ could capture Cas' chapped lips in a kiss and give him that messy sex hair? Dean's body flashed hot as he imagined him and Cas together. He contemplated opening the beer and taking a swig but was not sure if that would be a good idea in such close proximity to Cas. Normally he'd have no issues with it but of late nothing had been normal.

The silence between them was for once not born out of unspoken contentment but from anxious anticipation. Cas opened his eyes again, and his gaze fell on Dean, a small uncertain smile playing on his lips. “Is everything alright, Dean?”

Yes. Everything is alright. Perfectly peachy. Nothing is wrong at all. “No.” The single word left his lips unbidden, and Dean felt a weird mix of elation and fear hammering inside of him.

“I've noticed that you've been quite diligent in avoiding my presence lately.” Cas let the statement hang in the air between them.

Dean knew what Cas was doing with all these long pauses. He was giving Dean a chance to deflect, or make a joke or change the topic to something else less harmful, less _important._

“I haven't been avoiding you... much.” He let his fingers trail through the grass. “Um...You do know I care for you? A lot Cas.”

“Well, of course, Dean. You mean very much to me too. We have been through a lot together and I'd like to think that forms a close bond.”

Another wave of heat washed over Dean and he was not sure if it was because he was nervous, if it was due to the weird spell he was under or if he was hoping that behind Cas' words lay a deeper meaning.

“Yeah, you are a good friend.” He could instantly tell that he had fucked up. Cas didn't say anything but Dean noticed his suddenly guarded expression, the quick shadow that passed over his eyes. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Without thought, Dean grabbed Cas' hand. “You are... _more_ than a friend Cas.”

Cas's eyes went wide, whether, from Dean's admission or him grabbing his hand, Dean didn't know. All he knew was that his heartbeat was in his throat and he was surprised that he could speak at all. Cas' hand was warm, calloused and Dean wanted to know it intimately; trace every line, every wrinkle and feel those hands on him. His own hand was probably clammy and gross.

“You feel _more_ for me? More than for Sam?” Cas' voice was surprisingly even as if he had been waiting for or at least been thinking about this conversation for a long time.

Dean shrugged, still holding Cas' hand. “Well, I don't know if it's more but it's different.” _I want to fuck you, that's the difference. Maybe cuddle with you, even a blowjob or two?_ “I – Look, I'm not good with words and I fuck up all the time, Cas.”

Cas started to object but Dean stopped him.

“I suck at words, but I want to get this right.” Exhaling deeply, Dean continued. “You mean a lot to me, Cas. You _are_ a good friend but you are... more to me. I've trusted you with my life, you've had unwavering faith in me, even when I was a dick and surely didn't earn it. I've fucked up and yet you've always stood by me.”

“It's human to make mistakes Dean, but those mistakes don't define you.”

“Yeah, well.” Dean cleared his throat. “Still.” It felt like his right hand still holding Cas' had a heartbeat of its own. “I miss you when you are not here. With me.” He paused. “What I'm trying to say is...” He had come this far; why not just throw himself off the cliff? Couldn't be worse than the throwing himself in the box.

“I'm in love with you, Cas.” He looked down at their hands. Cas still hadn't moved his hand. Maybe he couldn't and really wanted to. Dean slowly started to unwrap his hand from Cas' when a hesitant finger touched his face. Cas pulled Dean's chin up gently, forcing him to look him in the eye. What Dean saw made his heart ache. Cas' gummy smile was radiant. 

The angel reached out to touch him; his thumb stroked the side of Dean's cheek softly. “I love you too, Dean.”

Holy shit. Cas loved him. Momentarily Dean froze; he knew what he wanted to do but what if Cas objected, or changed his mind. “Um, say that again?”

Cas dropped his hand from Dean's cheek and smiled, his gaze burning right through him and Dean felt a flush of heat color his cheeks.

“I love you.” It was a simple declaration yet it made Dean's whole world turn upside down.

_Cas had just said he loved Dean. Twice! Cas_ loved _him._ Licking his lips, Dean smiled softly as he slowly leaned in. Here goes all or nothing.

Their lips met hesitantly, both unsure and cautious. Cas' lips were soft and Dean tasted notes of fire, the fresh smell of rain on a warm day and something that was all Cas. A thrill went through him and their clumsy kiss soon turned into one of increasing want as Cas got more confident, tongue thrusting inside. It was only after Dean started laughing, probably from the sheer incredulity that he was kissing _Cas_ , that they both broke it off, still holding hands like giddy teenagers.

Dean had no memory of how they ended up in his room on his bed with their clothes off but he sure as hell was not gonna complain. Cas' lips were red and swollen from all their kissing and for a moment Dean paused, taking in the amazing sight of Cas and that he was the one responsible for making an angel breathless.

Cas straddled him and as his hands grabbed Dean's hips tightly, the weight of Cas sent jolts of pleasure through him. Dean moaned and his hard cock twitched, encouraging Cas to do more. Since their first awkward kiss outside, Cas had become more confident.

“I can't believe this is happening”, Dean murmured.

Cas claimed his mouth with a kiss. “I can think of several ways to prove to you this is real.”  
Dean hissed and bucked his hips upwards as Cas' hand went to his cock. Fuck, he could come right then and there. “Mm, please do, Cas.” Suddenly a thought hit him and Dean felt silly but he had to ask. “Cas...”

“Yes, Dean?”

God, this was going to sound stupid. “This isn't like... a one night stand? Right?”

Cas laughed. “No, Dean, you can have as many stands as you like.”

Dean couldn't stop the grin that spread over his face. “Yeah, OK. Just checking.”

Latching on to one of Dean's nipples Cas sucked hard and Dean moaned, raking his fingers through Cas' hair, caressing his shoulders and reveling in the hard muscles undulating underneath his touch. “Mm, just like that.” It surprised him that he was so at ease with telling Cas what he wanted, but on the other hand, he had thought about what he wanted to do with his angel for a long time.

Their breathy moans were interrupted by the sound of a phone ringing. Dean objected as Cas' let go of his nipple. “Just leave it Cas. They can call again.”

Cas smiled. There seemed to be a perpetual smile on his face since their talk earlier. “As you wish.” His hands went down over Dean's stomach, caressing slowly and Dean just hummed, urging Cas along.

As strong fingers wrapped around Dean's cock he closed his eyes muttering a curse under his breath. He was going to embarrass himself if Cas continued like this. Trying to calm his erratic heart, his hand caressed Cas' strong thighs, gripping tightly. God, just to be able to finally touch Cas, the smell of him, it was all overwhelming.

The phone rang again.

“Son of a bitch! Just ignore it Cas, whoever that is they'll get the memo soon.” Finally, the sound of the ringing died down.

Cas hummed as he let go of Dean's dick, lazy fingers circling his stomach finding a path to his nipple again. He bent down and kissed Dean's collar bone, trailing a path up to his cheeks were his lips touched Dean's freckles, slowly and with purpose. Dean closed his eyes.

“I could watch you come undone for all eternity, Dean.” Cas' voice was heavy with want but also with such open honesty that Dean didn't quite know what to say. 

The phone rang a third time. 

Cas chuckled as Dean grumbled under his breath. “I think you should answer it, Dean. It might be an important call.” Cas kissed him swiftly on the mouth.

“Not more important than this,” Dean muttered but still turned to his side rummaging through his clothes after the cursed device.

“What!”

“Dean, I found something.” It was his brother, Sam, of course, it was. 

For a moment Dean was confused as to what Sam was talking about. “Um, that's great, Sam. Kind of busy right now.” Cas had eased his way down to kneel in between Dean's thighs, listening intently to Dean's side of the conversation.

“No, listen. I found a lore book, well Rowena found it with help from a fellow witch that was indebted to her. The two cats were a clue and you were right, I think the statue is cursed.”

“Uh-huh.” Cas' finger slowly trailed over Dean's cock and Dean had to cough to mask the moan that escaped his lips. He shook his head at Cas but the angel just smiled. A jolt of lust shot through Dean, making his cock twitch again. Cas was enjoying this. Well, Dean was too but he'd rather not have his brother's voice in his ear while it happened.

“So get this. You remember how Mona kind of knew what was up and we assumed she was just a witch with a vision. And those two cats that took a special liking to you.”

Cas wrapped his lips around Dean's cock and Dean had to shove the phone under the pillow, breathing harshly. “Holy fuck, Cas.”

Cas just grinned, swirling his tongue around Dean's head causing him to close his eyes and then swallowed him down. Fuck. Dean tempered his breathing and brought the phone back to his ear.

“ – so Freya probably cursed you with those visions since she is the goddess of love and sex.” Sam cleared his throat. “Anyway I think you need to break the curse otherwise those visions will become more vivid until you and I quote 'go irrevocably mad with lust and unhinged desire compelling you to claw at your hair and gouge your eyes out ultimately leading to utter destruction of the heart'. Since you already smashed the cat I found this ancient Sumerian ritual that will unbind the curse. I think. I'll be back in one hour.”

“Mm, that's nice, Sam. Really, thank you.” He ground his teeth together, trapping a moan as Cas did something absolutely wicked with his tongue. Cas started to ease off but Dean wound his fingers in Cas' hair. He caught the angel's blue eyes gleaming with a dangerous spark.

Dean nodded his head and Cas went back down on him. Christ, he was dying. He needed to end the call right fucking now. “But it's alright, Sammy. We figured out how to break our curse so it's all good.”

There was a pause, and then Sam's confused voice. “ _We?_ I thought this was your curse.”

“Mm, the other one, about me and Cas. We are good now.” Dean paused, forcing air out his nose as Cas continued to suck his cock. He tried not to stutter, not to give anything away. ”You can head back home. Drive slowly, no rush. Make it a two-hour ride instead of one.”

“Good for you, guys. But I'm hanging up now, Dean. ”

Dean tossed the phone on the bed, as Cas got up from between his thighs, licking his lips.”I thought he'd never finish.”

Smiling, Dean grabbed Cas by the arm, yanking him forward so he toppled over him. “Come here, Cas.” They met in a kiss, slow and eager. “We better use these two hours wisely.”


End file.
